The Rest of Our Lives
by Live Fire
Summary: Bill and Fleur have just been married, but their wedding doesn't go at all to plan. When Death Eaters come looking for Harry, it's possible that they may not survive for much longer. Quite possible. 4/325 Weasley pairings.


**_4/325 Weasley Pairings_**

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**The Rest of Our Lives**

Bill Weasley wasn't the biggest fan of weddings.

Sure, he knew that the wedding was an important occasion for the couple involved. But did it have to be so mind-blowingly boring? The reception, the ceremony - in Bill's eyes, they dragged out too long and were nothing but a waste of time. Why couldn't the guests arrive faster, find their seats quickly, watch as the ceremony official declare them bride and groom, and then just leave? He would have bet that that kind of wedding would only take an hour or so, and for many years that kind of wedding was his dream wedding - if he ever found the perfect girl, that is.

Now, however, he was having second thoughts.

As he watched the guests slowly filter in, a huge beam of pride hung on his face as they admired his mother's decorations, whispering amongst themselves about the rows and rows of fragile, delicate golden chairs or the poles entwined with blooming white and gold flowers.

This was his wedding and he couldn't have been happier. Everything was going to plan. The guests were arriving, Fleur was somewhere in the Burrow, getting ready and his family were all here to watch his big day. With a war going on, everyone needed something to celebrate and what better than his wedding day?

His heart pounded furiously against his chest as he waited for his soon-to-be-wife. He couldn't remember ever feeling this happy. Fleur made him happy and if he had to sit through hours and hours of the wizard going through all the official parts before he could finally kiss her, then he would. And, if the reception dragged out to the early hours of the morning, then so be it. The longer he got to celebrate with his new wife, the better.

How things had changed in the last few years. He never thought he would find someone who could make him this happy. In fact, he never saw himself getting married until he was at least thirty.

But when she appeared at the opposite end of the aisle - accompanied by his sister and hers - donned in a shimmering yet simple white dress, he decided that his age didn't matter. He had found her then and he was going to marry her now.

Happiness engulfed him completely as she walked down the the aisle elegantly, a huge smile on her lips and dark blue eyes glittering from excitement. He could feel the corners of his lips tugging into a grin as well; mirroring her expression.

The ceremony proceeded smoothly with few interruptions. Everyone was silent - save for Aunt Muriel's unnecessary comments and sobs of joy from the crowd, namely their mothers and Hagrid - as the couple exchanged vows, made promises and eventually kissed. As a shower of silver stars sprinkled down on them, the crowd broke out into an uproarious applause, clapping and cheering and wolf-whistling (courtesy of Fred and George).

Before he could react, he and his new wife were swarmed by a group of well-wishers. He barely had time to smile and thank one before another one came up to him, offering his congratulations. By the time the crowd had dissipated, his cheek muscles were tired from smiling and once again, he was unpleasantly reminded of why he disliked weddings in the first place.

The golden-jacketed band had began to play a soft, lilting tune and he found himself waltzing with Fleur on the gleaming dance floor less than a minute later. Although he wasn't the best dancer in the world, he discovered that dancing with Fleur was relatively easy - all he had to do was to mimic her graceful movements to an acceptable degree and make sure he didn't step on anyone's toes by accident.

He didn't know how long he stayed on the dance floor, taking occasional breaks and chatting with more well-wishers. He didn't know how much time had passed; how long his wedding had lasted for before the silvery Patronus floated into the room, landing gracefully amid the dancers. The only thing he was acutely aware of was the words of the loud and deep voice.

"The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."

In that moment, everything changed.

Smiles of happiness melted from the guests' faces, to be replaced by expressions of panic and fear. Shining eyes filled with joy dimmed; noises of laughter faded from the atmosphere. All the guests seemed to be frozen to the spot, unable to move.

A scream rent the silent air, snapping everyone out of their shock.

Chaos ensued as guests ran in every direction, some Disapparating on the spot as the protective enchantments placed around the Burrow crumbled. The previously cheerful atmosphere was gone in a blink of an eye. In the midst of the confusion, he could see Ron grabbing Hermione and Harry, Disapparating into an unknown - but hopefully safe - location. He relaxed slightly - if they were indeed coming, Harry would be out of their grasp. He trusted Ron to Apparate them to a safe location.

Beside him, Fleur clutched his arm tightly, clinging onto him for dear life. "What do we do now?" she whispered, trying to keep her voice strong although he could detect a hint of fear under it.

"We wait," he whispered back, trying to suppress the panic rising in his chest. There is nothing to be afraid of, he reminded himself. Harry wasn't here anymore - the Weasleys couldn't be accused of harbouring a criminal if the Death Eaters didn't have any evidence - and Ron and Hermione's absence could be easily explained. He couldn't afford to act strangely, lest the Death Eaters became suspicious.

Fleur's grip on him tightened as the crowd thinned, most of them running in all directions now that Anti-Disapparition Charms were put up to presumably stop the Weasley family from escaping. The Death Eaters didn't care about the fleeing guests; their target was Harry Potter and his accomplices. Now, there only remained the newly married couple, the remaining Weasleys and members of the Order. Plus the Death Eaters.

There were no less than a dozen Death Eaters standing under the tent, wands drawn. Bill recognised some of them from photographs in the Prophet, but he couldn't name them. They were all the same to him - followers of You-Know-Who.

"Where is he?" one demanded, jabbing his wand at Bill's mother. If it had been anyone else, Bill would have immediately jumped to their defence, but he knew his mother. The Death Eater should be afraid of her, not the other way round.

"Where is who?" Molly asked coolly, feigning innocence. Her posture seemed casual, but her eyes never left the man.

"You know who," he hissed, jabbing the wand more forcefully at her. "Where is he?"

"I don't know."

And that's the truth, Bill thought satisfactorily. No one knew where Harry was now; no one knew where Ron and Hermione were either. They could be anywhere in England, or beyond.

He felt Fleur move away from him slightly, realising she was reaching very slowly for her wand so as to not draw attention to herself. He put his hand firmly on her arm, effectively stopping her. "No," he whispered.

"But, your mozzer," Fleur argued quietly, her eyes narrowing into slits. That wasn't really the look he expected from his wife on their wedding day, but he understood her reasons. Fleur was like anyone else standing under the tent. She wasn't going to run away and hide.

"Mum will be fine. We need to get inside to safety."

"I don't know where he is," Molly continued fiercely as Bill slowly pulled his wife towards the Burrow.

Belief flooded the Death Eater's face. Lowering his wand - Bill guessed that the Death Eater wasn't one of the brightest crayons in the box; an experienced wizard would never let down his guard - he looked to the others for support, but was met with disapproving looks.

"We don't know," Remus repeated convincingly.

A jet of red light flashed from another Death Eater's wand. Narrowly dodging it, Bill pulled Fleur out of the way with him and her arms immediately circled his waist for comfort as fear finally overcame her.

"Bill," she whispered.

Bill held her tightly. "Go inside," he urged.

"Not unless you are wiz me, Bill," she replied. What had once been an elegant wedding dress was now tattered at the bottom and covered in dirt and spilled wine. Her hair was askew, no longer in the neat updo she had worn as she walked towards him down the aisle.

As Bill looked around, he realised everyone was looking as dishevelled as Fleur. No doubt he was too. Nodding, he agreed with her. If that was the only way to keep his wife safe, then so be it.

They edged slowly backwards to avoid attention, going for the front door of the Burrow. They were halfway there when a Death Eater saw them, but Bill did know that face this time.

Antonin Dolohov.

His wand was on them within seconds, its end jabbing into Bill's chest. "Stay," he snarled, dark eyes narrowed.

It was a command neither Bill, nor Fleur, dared to argue against. Fleur's arms left his waist, falling limply to her side. Bill let go of his own wand which his hand had been wrapped around underneath his robes.

So, this is it, is it? Bill found himself wondering as they returned to his family's side. His mother gave him a concerned look, which he ignored. There was no point in worrying her even further. We're going to die on our wedding day.

But it seemed the Death Eaters had other ideas. They weren't out to kill anyone today. They were there for one person, and that one person so happened to have just Disapparated to safety. The one who still had his wand pointing at Bill's mother turned to Dolohov. It seemed he was the leader of this pack; he was the one calling the shots.

Dolohov looked at them. "If you've been hiding him..."

"I've been watching this place for a few hours now," another Death Eater interrupted. "There was no sign of Potter."

Dolohov looked satisfied. There was a short - almost inconspicuous - flick of his head and one by one, the Death Eaters Disapparated. No doubt to report to their master that there was no sign of Harry.

When the last one had gone, relief flooded every face in the tent. Fleur's hand returned to Bill's arm.

"Bill," she whispered, relief colouring her tone.

Bill broke free of her hold and placed his arm across her shoulders, giving her a gentle, loving squeeze. "It will be alright, love," he said. "I won't let them hurt you." He placed a kiss on top of her head and began leading her back inside. "It's not really how I imagined our wedding night to end," he commented mildly.

Fleur gave a hearty laugh. "Not to worry, Bill," she said. "We 'ave the rest of our lives togezzer."

He didn't bother adding the 'hopefully' at the end.

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